Raggedy Man, Goodbye
by whovianpower
Summary: The graveyard in 2012, New York, wasn't the Doctor and Amy's last goodbye. The Doctor found her once more, on her deathbed. One-shot. Takes place after "The Angels Take Manhattan". Beware of feels. I actually cried writing this...


_**CURSE YOU MOFFAT! Sorry, it's just that Amy and Rory's good bye shouldn't have ended like that. I'm going to die if I keep thinking that is the Doctor's last chance of a good bye to them. I WOULDN'T stand for it.  
This is it. This is the Doctor's final good bye.**_

* * *

"Mrs. Williams, there's someone here to see you."  
The old woman cracked open her eyes, squinting against the sunlight. She saw a figure across the room, but her eyesight wasn't what it used to be.  
"Could you close the window, please?" she requested in a Scottish accent, shielding her eyes with an old, wrinkled hand. She saw the figure of the nurse nod and do as she asked. She lowered her hand as the blind closed and he left the room. "Thank you," she said with a smile as her eyes adjusted to the now dark room. "Now who is here?"  
"Hello, Amy."  
Her smile faded as her brow furrowed.  
"Doctor?" she whispered. "Is that you?"  
A large smooth hand threaded it's fingers through her own. "Long time, no see."  
"Ya," Amy croaked. "It's been a long time. How long has it been for you?"  
"100 years or so. Give or take a few." The Doctor squeezed a hand. "I've missed you Amy."  
"I've missed you too," Amy sniffed, scanning his face. His hair lay smoothly on his head, and he still looked like the man who first crashed in her garden 80 years ago, when she was 7 years old. "I haven't seen you in 62 years."  
"Again, 100. I think I win," the Doctor joked lightly. He rubbed small circles on the back of her hand and his face fell. "Wait, did you say 62 years?"  
"Yes," Amy replied. "Why?"  
"So you're 87?"  
"Don't rub it in, Raggedy Man," Amy warned.  
"Yes, but 87 years old," he whispered.  
Amy bit her lip. "What was my age on the tombstone?"  
The Doctor glanced at the floor. "87 years."  
"So this is my last year," Amy whispered. "Heck, I'm in the hospital. This may be my last day."  
"I'm sorry, Amy," he whispered, grasping her hand tighter. He sat in the chair that was next to her bed. "So, what did you do with your life?"  
"We got a house in upper Manhattan. Rory became a fully trained nurse and I became a writer. We adopted a son, and we called him Brian, after Rory's father." Her eyes started filling up with tears. "Rory died 5 years ago."  
The Doctor stroked her grey hair, cupping her wrinkled face. He planted a kiss on her forehead.  
They started talking, telling of what they had been up to since their last meeting. Amy told of her son, Brian, who was now 50 years old and married with a child.  
"You're a grandmother," the Doctor whispered. She smiled weakly.  
"Ya," she said. "I love being a grandmother."  
"I loved being a grandfather."  
"You were a grandfather?" Amy asked. "When was that?"  
"Long ago, back on Gallifrey," the Doctor told her. "Had a granddaughter called Susan..."  
The talked all through the day and into the afternoon, only pausing when nurses came to check on Amy. The sun had started setting when the question Amy forgot to ask floated to mind.  
"Doctor," she whispered, suddenly tired. "You told me you could never see me again. That you could never land the TARDIS in New York."  
"Ya," said the Doctor. "But it only just occurred to me that I could land in Greenwich, Connecticut and take a bus to NYC without blowing a hole in the universe."  
"Seriously?" Amy asked. "That was possible?" He nodded with a small smile.  
"I can be really thick at times."  
"You're telling me." Amy said. "You can be-" she faltered, letting out a heavy breath.  
"Amy?" the Doctor whispered. "Are you alright?"  
"Why now?" Amy whispered. "Why visit when I'm old? Why after Rory's death? Why now?"  
The Doctor looked down.  
"I wanted to see you so badly that I didn't check the date I landed."  
"1995, July 27th," Amy whispered. She let out a heavy breath and a small cough. The Doctor's expression turned grim.  
"Amy?"  
"Raggedy Man," she whispered. "You always come back don't you. You always come back in the end."  
"The end?" he repeated. "Please, no. Please don't go."  
She breathed heavily. She knew it was time. Time to die.  
"Amy, please don't! Please don't go!"  
"I've lived a long time. I've lived a full life. There wasn't ever a day I didn't think of you, Raggedy Man," she croaked, breaths coming out in small huffs. "You're my best friend."  
"Amy, please!" The Doctor whispered, tears starting to fall. "Please don't go."  
"Doctor," she whispered, grasping his hand. "Don't be alone." It clutched back, not wanting to ever let go. Amy's breathing slowed down. So did her heart. "Raggedy Man..."  
"Please, Amy," he cried as the beeping on the monitor started slowing down. "Amy, please, don't go." She closed her eyes.  
"Raggedy Man," she whispered. "Goodbye."

* * *

_**Sniffs. I actually started crying, writing the end of this. Why couldn't Moffat let her stay. Why couldn't she have left, not died. Why?  
I'd better stop typing before I start bawling...  
Reviews are appreciated. ~starts bawling~**_


End file.
